Healer's Hands
by Themis56
Summary: During the incident on the Big Whale, Rosa learns what it is to be a 'true lady'. Mostly experimental, so don't expect great things. PG for salty language and minor suggestive situations.


Healer's Hands

by

Themis56

Themis56@aol.com

__

Once at a ball a noble lady said to me:

"The State has a body. The craftsmen

are the trunk, the serfs the hands,

the King the head. And I?

I am society's face."

Clouds rolled off the sides of the mountains, signaling the beginning of Eblan's rainy season, and enveloped the rolling fertile plains in thick gray mist, smothering all within a cool blanket. Whipping monsoons would come later, but the season always started out very calm and quiet, the rains soft and gentle. Floods were so rare that only the most aged Ninjas claimed to remember a time when the ground had been covered in nothing but water for miles on miles, and usually then they had been drinking.

So the rain fell, cold but sweet and good. Most of the drops disappeared into the earth, soaking up into the roots of high, hearty weeds and long, tough grasses. But some of the rain fell upon a very strange contraption that loomed over the land, shiny without sun and looking vaguely, to anyone who might have passed by, like a beached fish. 

Under one of the bizarre vessel's boarding planks Rosa Farrell peered out. She gazed out into the distance and stared at a series of broken pits nearly ten feet deep trenched in the soft ground. The holes resembled giant footprints, and huge pieces of metal lay scattered around each print, slowly rusting in the rain. She knew what they were; she had helped bring those sheets of metal fall.

Rosa shivered and rubbed her porcelain-skinned hands together, drawing her thin and frayed cloak about her shoulders. The weather really wasn't terribly cold and she was dry, but her bones ached deeply. He had tossed them out, the both of them. "Get off," he had said, not looking at her. "Go on. Get off the Big Whale."

She had gotten off, too. Rosa had a notorious reputation for stubbornly following Cecil through whatever perils came, from their earliest childish adventures to going with him down into the throat of a great giant--but after he had said those words, her legs had seemed to move of their own accord, and now she was here.

Sometimes her body did things without her mind telling them to, like the time when she had heard about the earthquake in Mist. She had simply gone where her legs had taken her, she had been so sick with worry and fear that she couldn't think straight. Until now, she had only desired to be near him, to help him--what had happened to make her give up so easily, Rosa could not say.

The young lady closed her eyes and summoned up a vision of his face in her mind. Cecil had just looked--_so--_fatigued and sad and near panic. Like her father looked when she was very young, before his death, when he came home on furlough, his hair mottled and smelling of blood. She remembered how he used to swing her up in his tired arms as she rushed forth to greet him, kiss her forehead, stroke her soft gold hair, and take her tiny hand in his big, callused one.

"You're such a joy to me, Rosie," he'd say to her, "I wish I could take you to the field with me so every man there knew what a sweet daughter I have!" Then he would go on about her beautiful a girl she was, and how soft and smooth her hands were--

Rosa heard the clicking of boots sound out on the boarding ramp. She looked up and saw another young woman, this one shorter with a rounder face (which now was dark like a thundercloud) and a whip at her belt, her hair and golden-threaded robes all a glittering green. 

"Bahamut help me, I am going to _kill_ that Ninja twerp!" Rydia cried, squeezing her leather whip and throttling it. "The nerve of him! D'gaaaaah!"

Rosa couldn't help but laugh despite her disapproval at such violent words. Rydia had been such a sweet, gentle child, but the time in the Land of Summons had made her wild, as the monsters there had not been very strict. Rosa supposed Rydia couldn't help being raised like she was.

"The nerve of _all _of them," Rydia continued, "sending us out here in this cursed rain!"

"I don't like it either," said Rosa, her voice low and serene, "but Cecil would know best. Going back to the moon is dangerous, and Zemus is a power of great darkness. Golbez and FuSoYa seemed worried about confronting him, and they are the most powerful mages the world has seen. What chance would we have? We'd only be in the way this time. "

"What chance do they have, when they won't have anything stronger than a Cure2 spell between them? I don't see how the Giant was any less dangerous, and they let us come along _then._ It's dumbassery, plain and simple."

"I trust in Cecil's judgment," Rosa said quietly. "He's never steered us wrong before."

Rydia stared at her comrade-in-arms. "Well, I hate to destroy any carefully nurtured principles, but he's _gone wrong_ this time. It's unwise, and you know it, Rosa." The Caller whirled in an about-face back towards the ramp. "That's it. I'm going back up there. Come on."

"I'm not going," said Rosa.

"What!"

"I told you," Rosa repeated softly, "I'm not going."

"_Why won't you?!_ Is this the same person who nearly cooked her brains out in the desert just to follow Cecil? You used to be right stubborn sometimes. What happened?" Rydia shouted. Rosa hated being yelled at, but she had grown used to the Caller's temper.

"Because I--"

"Yes?"

"I just won't. Can't." Rosa slurred. How could she have told Rydia about how in the evenings, when he thought she had dozed off on the couch, she heard her father talk to her mother about his little girl?

"She will become a great lady someday," he had boasted. "Yes, a queen even!"

"Dear, I don't think that you should gush over her so," her mother would reply. "You'll smother her."

Then her father would say: "What? I want her to know she is loved, that is all. When I am out in the field, I am miserable. Nothing makes me happy except her sweetness and grace. Sometimes thinking of her is the only thing that keeps me sane."

Rydia would not understand these things. Rosa had risked slighting the memory of Sir Farrell too many times before, and every time she had done so it was like destroying what precious memory remained of him. She would go on no more.

"Go ahead without me, Rydia. You've got more powerful spells than I do, and Asura can heal in my place," Rosa said. She drooped down into the grass.

Rydia blinked and took a step back. "I don't want to leave you here all alone."

"It's all right. I'll go to Castle Eblan; I'll be out of the rain there."

"Very noble! Nothing doing." Rydia huffed out her breath, crossed her arms, and plopped down next to Rosa. "Fine. We'll both just sit here until we catch pneumonia and die, then. _That'll_ show 'em!"

The wind blew colder now, and Rosa felt the chill of the rain. She huddled up next to Rydia for warmth, glad for the Caller's company, for all would have been pure misery if she hadn't been there.

Rydia was cold too, Rosa knew, and was suffering on her account. The men were in the airship, preparing to go face dangers and perils with hardly a decent healing spell among the three of them. Cecil's face formed again in her mind, tired and noble. To go against his orders was to bring undue pressure and frustration on him; to obey was to not love him.

"Rydia?"

"Hmm?"

"It--it really is impractical, isn't it?" Rosa said softly. "Going without their best magic-users, I mean."

"It sure is."

"And if they do fail, what will be left for us? I'd rather die than live to kiss the ground beneath Zemus's feet."

"We all would." Rydia's eyes shone as she smiled wickedly.

"He is very tired," Rosa continued, "and he isn't thinking as clearly as he is wont to. I'm sure he'll come around. By then, though, it might be too late."

"True, true. What do you plan to do about it?"

Rosa laughed helplessly and covered her eyes with her hand. "Oh, Rydia, Rydia, you're a piece of work. Is there enough room in the entry hold for two criminally disobedient women?"

"Hell, yes!" Rydia laughed, leaping up to her feet with such force that both women found themselves standing. "They're about to go, I'll wager. Quickly!"

They hurried up the slick ramp just as it began to raise up and slide itself away into the inner labyrinth of the ship's hull. The two began to settle themselves into the dry darkness of the hold. Rosa sighed and curled her knees up under herself for warmth, certain that her father, gods rest him, was spinning in his grave.

******

The flight to the moon was long, even on such a powerful vessel as the Big Whale; to while away the time, Rosa told a story. She and Rydia sat cross-legged opposite each other, and, as they leaned in close, Rosa began to whisper about Baron and its legions of White Wizards.

"My mother was a very powerful Wizard, the Headmistress of the training school until my father died. I always wanted to be like her. The gift of healing has been in both my parents' lines for generations, and it was expected that I would prove myself to be true to my roots. But magical ability doesn't show up until around seven years or so, and I was so impatient to see if I had the gifts or not.

"I remember the first time I used magic," she smiled. "I had gone to school one day when I was about eight years old, and there was a new girl in the class. She was from a very poor family, not the cleanest thing in the world. She had lice in her hair."

"You only knew that because she was the one who gave them to you!" Rydia crowed quietly in glee.

Rosa nodded and suppressed a giggle. "Yes. They sent both of us home. My old nurse, rest her soul, was the first person I met when I got to my house, unfortunately. She was one of the kindest and most intelligent people I knew, Rydia, but she was no doctor. Her solution to my problem was to fill a wash-basin with turpentine and dunk my whole head into it. It killed the lice, sure enough, but it nearly killed _me. _I ran through the house and bounced off the walls, screaming like a lunatic.

"The pain was so bad and pieces of my scalp and hair were falling out right and left, I put my hands on top of my head. I suppose that the experience was so traumatic for me that it drew out my latent healing powers, because as I grabbed at my scalp, I felt a warm tingling sensation taking the pain away. After a few seconds, I didn't feel a thing. I looked in the mirror and saw that all of my hair and scalp was intact. I didn't know what to make of it, but I was just happy to not be bald. I went back to Nanny, and she looked at me and said, 'Stop your blubbering, child. Don't be so dramatic. A little turpentine won't hurt you.'"

Both young women began to giggle like mad, and they had to clamp their hands over their mouths to keep from giving themselves away. Rosa felt her ribs swelling up against her bodice and drew in a painful breath to calm herself.

They settled down and didn't dare speak more; Rosa was sure that they hadn't been heard, but it was better not to tempt fate. Rydia began to study her whip with great interest, fingering its braided strips and probably imagining them cracking against Edge's backside. For her part, Rosa placed her chin on her knees and stared off into the distance to think of _him_.

Her story called up an old memory from about two years ago. It had been a very mild day of early fall, and she had been tending to the autumn and winter roses in the front garden. Every noble lady had a garden. She hadn't known it, but Cecil had slipped over for a visit, having been dismissed early from training. He had been leaning against the fence that ringed the front yard, watching her work. She hadn't noticed him for a long time, and when she finally did it had been a shock.

"Oh! You scared me," she had laughed. She placed a hand over her rapid heart and mustered a smile. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he had responded, gazing at the flowers. "I was just thinking. You always grow the best roses in Baron. They're so big and gorgeous, better than even the king's. How do you do it, Rosa?"

For some reason, she had felt very shy and small at the question; she did not think it would be easy for him to understand. Yet she tried.

"Have you ever heard of healer's hands?" Rosa asked. "It's a gift. Either you're born with it or you aren't. It's not something that a person gets from magic, so not all White Wizards have it. I--It's nothing really truly physical. It's a _knowing,_ Cecil."

"A knowing?"

"Yes," she breathed, digging her fingers down into the earth, letting its coarse beauty sift through, feeling each sparkle of vitality pass over the tips. "I just know exactly where to prune the roses, where to pinch them, when they're sick or getting too much water. I also can sense when a person is in pain, where the blood is coming from even though I can't see the wound, and how tightly to tie a tourniquet without hurting someone. I can feel it when I touch them. That's the healer's hands. They find the things wrong for me, plant or animal."

The next thing she knew, he had scaled over the fence and was standing right behind her; he reached out and gripped her hand, which had grasped a pruning knife.

"I think it's a wonderful gift," he whispered, his emerald gaze and warm breath very close to her. "You have it because you love everything so much."

The knife had fallen from her grip and she began to tremble as he bent her body backwards very gently, covering her face with tingling kisses. She suddenly found herself on the ground, and they began to whisper to each other. . .

"Rosa?"

She opened her eyes to an explosion of green and gold and felt her shoulders being shaken.

"Are you okay?" Rydia queried. "You aren't getting sick on me, are you?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Just checking. You had this strange expression on your face, and I got worried. But you're better now?"

"Yes. I was just remembering something Cecil once said to me a few years ago." A wetness tinged her cheeks; she reached up to brush away the cold drops from her face. 

"Oh, gods help me, Rydia," she whispered. "He _knew._ He knew. Oh, I can't think straight! I _need_ him so."

Rydia only shook her head and gave a pitying look.

******

The Big Whale ground to a halt, crunching the delicate lunar soil beneath its awesome girth, and the metallic kelp-chomper settled majestically into its landing place. 

Rosa and Rydia exchanged glances; now that they had safely arrived without being detected, they had no clue as what to do next. They really only had two choices: wait for the men to find them in the hold, or reveal themselves beforehand.

"Okay!" Rydia whispered. "Now what?"

Rosa felt strangely sick; her heart churned and her breath could barely creep its way out of her chest. 'Oh, what will he say to me?' she thought weakly.

"Rosa!" Rydia gently shook her shoulder. "Are you okay? You're doing it again!"

"Hmmm? Sorry. I'm fine," she reassured. "I'm just a bit nervous."

She watched her green-haired companion rise and go up the ladder to the hatch that opened into the airship's main chambers, putting her ear up against the door.

"I hear them coming," Rydia reported. "We have to think of something fast!"

"You wait here, if you please, Rydia," Rosa answered hastily, flying to her feet. "I'll go first and talk to him."

"All right. But if any one of them gives you crap, I'll be here."

Rydia was such a dear. Rosa directed a smile towards the Caller and quietly ascended the metal rungs in the wall. She heard voices very close, drawing even nearer. She flung open the hatch without thinking.

"Cecil!" she called, stepping in front of the door.

"Rosa?" Kain asked lamely, and at the same time Edge jumped back a pace and shouted, "The _hell?" _But she took no heed of them, if she was even aware of their existence. Her eyes were riveted on Cecil's face, and, to her discomfort, she could not decipher what his expression. He did not meet her gaze and looked over her head.

"Get out of my way..." Cecil said heavily.

_Get out of my way._

If she had listened very carefully, Rosa would have sworn that she heard a silvery tinkling noise somewhere deep inside herself as her heart broke into pieces.

Another voice spoke very softly, and only Rosa heard it: "Punch him." Initially she thought it was her conscience speaking, but it took only a few seconds to surmise that it was in actuality Rydia, who had heard the whole thing and was now whispering some good old homespun Summoned Monster wisdom through a small grate in the hatch door.

Yet there was something in that. Through the throbbing, jumbled miasma of her hurt, Rosa felt a thin span of anger fall into her hands and pull her out of the ruins. She had never been angry before, and it felt awful. She needed to get rid of it, so she lashed back in the only way she knew how.

"No, I will _not_ get out of the way, Cecil," she answered back, almost screaming, barely catching herself. She gulped down a breath of air and continued slowly: "Cecil, I am not as skilled a fighter as you are, nor am I as brave; perhaps you are even smarter than I am. I don't mind. But I _am _much more well-versed in the healing arts, that much I'm certain of. I want to help you because I love you. I don't have anywhere else to go. Where would I go? Back to my mother? To Eblan, maybe? No! It's shameful. Please. Just as long as--" Rosa's shoulders drooped and she sighed. Her courage had run out; she was ashamed of her audacity. Her poor father!

"Cecil," Kain spoke as he twirled his spear thoughtfully, "let her come along. If she's determined, then we can't stop her."

Edge folded his arms and leaned back against the wall with a long-suffering look heavenward. "Don't be stupid, man."

Cecil looked at his comrades, then at her. A small smile formed on his lips, and his shoulders sagged wearily.

"All right, Rosa. No matter what happens, I'll keep you safe."

She gave a cry and ran into his arms, and he enfolded her in a tight, warm embrace, kissing the top of her golden head. Rosa trembled, pressing her lips next to the warm section of his neck left exposed by a curve in the collar of his breastplate. Edge said something. Rosa didn't catch the words, but it was enough to bring their minds back to embarrassing reality. They drew apart, too late to salvage their dignity, their hands still clasped together. A flash of green suddenly appeared at the door.  
"We did it!" Rydia sang out; she sprang blithely from the hatch and performed an interesting little twisting leap into the air.

"You!" Edge spluttered. "I thought I told you to stay home!"

"Ha! Eblan isn't my home, genius. Leave us freezing out in the rain, eh? If I had a mind to, I'd--!"

Rydia and Edge continued on, immersed in their philosophical discussion; Kain looked on bemusedly. Thus given a chance for intimacy, Cecil drew Rosa into his arms once more and whispered right in her ear.

"If we ever return home, then it will be just the two of us, dearest. Forever. No man will ever have such as wife as I will."

Rosa began to laugh; the ship, Cecil, and the whole world spun giddily before her eyes.

She was happy.

******

Queen Rosa started up in her chair; she blinked and rubbed at her eyes. Her rose-pink silk dress had garnered a few wrinkles from her nap, but a few expert brushes cleared the cloth of its deed.

How long all of that seemed! Rosa could hardly believe it had only been five years since the incident. A smile crept up onto her delicately painted lips as she settled back into the plush chair. The Queen always needed a few minutes to truly wake up from a good nap.

She languidly looked around at her side of the royal bedchamber, at the white lace curtains on the sun-window, at her sewing basket stuffed with yarn and needles, and at the army of ivory combs, perfumes encased in crystal bottles, and sparkling jewels on her _armoire._

She then glanced down at her bare feet and distended belly, and felt a kick on the inside, bruising her ribs. 

Rosa placed her now useless hands at her midsection, unable to drive away the pain, and she began to cry weakly, like a little girl.

__

Rosa, Cecil, and all related characters are property of Square.


End file.
